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“Scrap!” Knockout cursed as he attempted to reach the spot on his back that seemed just beyond his fingertips. He could never reach there with the buffing wheel, not on his own. He usually had Breakdown do it for him but-
“Knockout!” A shrill call interrupted him as Starscream slinked his way into the chamber, “How is progress on the-”
“I’m busy!” Knockout cut him off as he attempted to reach the spot again, growing more and more irritated. Starscream scoffed.
“I am your commanding officer-”
“I’M BUSY BY THE ALL SPARK!” Knockout screamed again. This time Starscream stopped and actually observed what was happening. Knockout trying and failing to reach the spot on his back that still had a small scuff he couldn’t get out. The empty husk of Breakdown laying on the operating table, Silas’ human body decomposing within. A parasite that had been put out of its misery.
“...I will… come back at another time.” Starscream backed up to the door. “You are… otherwise engaged I see.”
Being alone didn’t really help, however. Knockout felt a coil deep inside, and it grew tighter and tighter. It began when he heard Breakdown had been taken by MECH. Heard about what those humans had done to his beloved. It still made him sick, made him feel like his circuits were being squeezed to the point of suffocation. He felt like he was leaking energon, but he didn’t know from where, his very life draining from him.
When Breakdown had returned with a missing optic and a shipload of memories that needed to be dealt with, Knockout had been there. He’d made a promise to Breakdown when they snuck off the Decepticon warship to perform the Conjunx Ritus in a secluded place long ago, a promise that he would never ever break, no matter the cost.
But now. How could he keep his promise?
The coil snapped. Knockout threw the buffer wheel with all his might and it shattered against the wall, parts flying into distant dusty corners he had never bothered to clean now. He was slipping. He could feel it. Broken things littered his lab, reports went without the usual flourish, his demeanor was darker, less feeling.
“It doesn't trouble you to watch what remains of your former partner endure your scientific endeavors?” Starscream had asked him.
"Not really." He’d replied.
Lies. He had to keep up the facade. No weakness, that was the Decepticon way. He couldn’t let anyone see just how badly he hurt inside. How he was bleeding and yet there was no energon to be found, how the coil inside him continued to wind and snap and wind and snap and wind up again.
How every time he saw his conjunx’s body laying on that table, it was like he himself was dying as well. He supposed a part of him did die that day, when he felt Breakdown’s spark extinguish. A part of himself he could never get back.
“You could always get these spots…” Knockout reached for the limp servo on the table, but hesitated. That wasn’t Breakdown's servo anymore.
“...Please.” Knockout closed his optics, “Come back…” Opened them again. Just a bad dream. Please let this just be a bad dream.
“I need you.”
Nothing.
The coil snapped again. He reached down into the tattered innards of his beloved and ripped the human body free. He hurled it at the wall with all his might, same as he had with the buffer wheel. The wet splat that accompanied the crunch and crash of metal parts slamming in joint fashion filled the room for a moment before there was silence again. Silas’ decaying body slid down, hit the floor, blood and entrails dark and thick slid down the wall grossly, making Knockout feel sick all over again.
The body was barely recognizable anymore, since Knockout hadn’t bothered to put it into some kind of stasis to preserve it. He let it rot. He let it feel the same way he did, infested, broken, ruined, lost. He’d let organic life get to it, those things called roaches and maggots. Let the planet reclaim the waste of space it created, the parasite that had taken his entire world from him. The one thing he couldn’t fix.
The coil inside squeezed him, his energon tank felt fit to burst, his optics blurred, his processors felt fried.
He wanted to scream, to lose his temper, to break something the same way Breakdown used to. He wanted the familiarity of something broken that wasn’t him. Maybe if he broke everything else, he would feel a little less of it himself.
But he couldn’t, not here, not where the crew could hear him. He was never truly alone on this damn warship where constantly having someone nearby was commonplace. He used to enjoy the feeling of having someone nearby always, someone he enjoyed talking to. But that someone was now an empty husk, laying on the table, lifeless optic staring up at the ceiling, intake a torn up mess from the dark-synth-energon.
Cool metal met his own neural transmitters as he pressed his forehead to Breakdown’s.
“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to snap…” Achingly gentle servos clutched at the sculpted scarred faceplate.
“It’s just been quite an adjustment… since you’ve been gone.”
The door opened again, and Knockout could feel that coil cinch tight.
“Knockout.”
He froze, not wanting to turn and face Megatron in such a state.
“Lord Megatron.” He responded, not turning around. He stared down at Breakdown’s exposed innards, tampered with and filled with disgusting, primitive human technology.
Megatron was going to say something but stopped, observed. Knockout didn’t turn to face him, his usual sashay was nowhere to be seen, no deep dramatic bow. He was different, had been different ever since Breakdown…
“…I can request that Shockwave fashion a tomb for Breakdown-“
“No.” Knockout couldn’t quite bring himself to take his servo, “He needs to stay with me. I can’t leave him.”
“Knockout-“
Snap.
“I said NO!” Knockout spun to face Megatron, but covered his intake. He wasn’t being rational, he was out of line. No weakness. No weakness. He turned back around, feeling coolant collect in his heated optics.
Megatron didn’t seem shocked, however.
“Knockout…” Megatron’s presence beside him felt like an oppressive force.
“Do you know the first thing I did when I lost Orion Pax to the Matrix of Leadership?”
“No, Lord Megatron.”
Knockout flinched when Megatron’s finger traced along Breakdown’s chest plate. Or what was left of it.
“I… lost control. Smashed everything in sight.”
“You?” Knockout didn’t know Megatron could lose control. Everything he’d ever done leading the Decepticons was a calculated move, weighing risks and rewards. Megatron couldn’t afford to lose control, and neither could he.
“Is that an invitation?” Knockout’s optics flitted towards the data center to his left. He could take his buzz saw to it right now. The coil inside tightened, like a snake preparing to strike, rattling deep inside.
“No.” Megatron followed Knockout’s optics and looked over at the data center.
“It’s an order.”
Snap.
Knockout didn’t need more than that. He sliced through the thing like it was butter. But that wasn’t enough. He slammed his saw down, over and over, treating it more like a brute hammer than a precision instrument. But he didn’t care. Breakdown. This is what Breakdown would do. He would slam it, smash it over and over until it was nothing but dust.
Snap. Wind up. Snap. Wind up. Snap.
Electricity crackled and smoke poured from the destroyed machine when he stopped. He felt his burning hot optics dripping coolant onto the floor. It hissed as it hit the overheated circuits of the data center.
The silence was suffocating.
“Now, get back to work.”
Just like that, Knockout was alone again.